


Your military forces disrupt my window view

by hereticpop



Category: SMAP
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2010-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticpop/pseuds/hereticpop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kimura Takuya was twenty-two and had recently noticed that his sex-appeal was a weapon of mass destruction, of a nuclear kind. Nakai Masahiro was twenty-two and had just noticed that Kimura Takuya’s sex-appeal was a weapon of mass destruction. Of a totally nuclear kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your military forces disrupt my window view

Kimura Takuya was twenty-two and had recently noticed that his sex-appeal was a weapon of mass destruction, of a nuclear kind. Nakai Masahiro was twenty-two and had just noticed that Kimura Takuya’s sex-appeal was a weapon of mass destruction. Of a totally nuclear kind.

 

They’re having a dance practice and Takuya is late. No, Takuya is not late. Goro was late when he arrived fifteen minutes after the appointed time, mumbling excuses and something about a broken hair-dryer. Takuya is simply joking, mocking them, is out of his mind. That’s what Nakai is thinking as they start the practice incomplete, still lacking one.

Thirty minutes later he finally arrives, in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt with a stain at the back, hair uncombed.

“I overslept,” he states as his reason with a stupid grin plastered to his face that disappears in a second and his eyes are dark and serious. Nakai would immediately know that Takuya is more angry at himself than any of them are – if he cared to look at him. He doesn’t, not even a glare, and they continue to repeat the sequence of dance moves that they have repeated a hundred times already and Takuya slips into his spot and it seems like he hasn’t been out of it even for a moment. Neither of them talks.

Nakai is set on ignoring Takuya, his presence and his very existence if he is pushed that far, but then it is clearly not Nakai’s day. It hasn’t been his week actually and this day is no more his than the rest. Because while they dance, there is a full-wall mirror in front of them and Nakai can’t help it. He stares. He hasn’t thought it’s possible to dance and stare at the same time, but he does.

Nakai’s hips move, so do the others’ (except for Goro’s maybe, Goro’s hips sometimes do funny things, but Nakai’s not sure if they really move) but Takuya’s hips _move_. They sway and rock and thrust and it’s like every single second of motion is perfectly calculated to do _things_ to you. They surely do things to him, Nakai realises with horror as he has to turn his head and loses the sight of the mirror for a while. Then the hem of Takuya’s battered t-shirt rolls up and Nakai catches a glimpse of dark smooth skin of his abdomen and the waistband of his boxers that peeks from underneath the low-riding pants. It gets him; he feels a squeeze at the bottommost bottom of his stomach and he misses a step. He mouths a curse as he quickly covers it up because it doesn’t make any sense and it’s ridiculous. Takuya’s hips sway more.

It’s because his moves are so feminine, Nakai thinks as they all move from their spots and he can see the line of Takuya’s ass for a brief moment. From the right angle, if Nakai ignored the above-waist part of Takuya, it could totally be a woman. That’s why it hits him so low, and because he hasn’t got any in a long time and it just gets to his head. Uhm, _head_. As in, the one on his shoulders. _Fuck that, Nakai, stop it_ , he almost hits Tsuyoshi by accident. The truth is, he cannot pretend it’s a woman. He has seen that body naked, goddammit (another squeeze and it becomes dangerously low now). And he cannot ignore the above-waist part of Takuya either, because _the faces_. The faces Takuya makes while dancing are really something.

They don’t have an audience, so there’s really no need to play with anyone’s heart and hormones, but it must be a second nature to him already because Takuya’s eyes are lustful and his lips are parted and the look on his face is just plain indecent. _Wonder if that’s how he looks during sex_ and Nakai officially wants to hang himself now or it’s just some sort of alien invasion because that thought was definitely not his and he has no idea where it came from. He tries dancing with eyes closed but his imagination has never been that happy to flood him with probable renditions of Takuya during sex and then he stumbles into Shingo and makes them both fall to the floor. Their dance instructor scolds him, Shingo whines and he looks away.

When the practice is over, Nakai is the first to leave the room and the door shuts after him with a loud bang.

xxx

Nakai enters the dressing room and he freezes mid-step upon seeing Takuya is in there and alone. He considers turning on his heel and leaving, but on a second thought he steps in and locks the door. The truth is, he is pissed, he hasn’t said a word about it so far and maybe it’s about time.

Takuya looks at him without a smile. It’s clear from Nakai’s expression he didn’t come here for small talk and candy.

“What the hell were you doing?”

Takuya knows he fucked up and he is lost between apologising and pretending he doesn’t know what Nakai is talking about because he doesn’t like the way Nakai is looking at him. In the end he decides on neither and merely shrugs.

“I said I’d overslept. There’s nothing more to it.”

This indifferent response is the worse kind of response. Nakai’s anger soars so much he can’t see anything beyond. The only problem is that it is completely misplaced. Nakai’s most irritating person in the world at the moment is Nakai himself, except that he cannot admit that without admitting the reasons and that’s one area of thought he absolutely doesn’t want to access. So he directs all his rage towards Takuya. His tactics change. A voice at the back of his head says he’s entering a dangerous territory, but he can’t hear it over all the anger and frustration buzzing like a fluorescent lamp.

“You think you can pull off things like that? That you can show up whenever you want? Who do you think you are?” The voice at the back of Nakai’s head tells him he doesn’t make any sense but he’s talking too loud and the voice is not heard. He takes the tug in his stomach for a surge of righteousness and adds a layer of sarcasm to his words. “A god sent gift to humanity? Kimutaku, the Second Coming?”

Takuya was taking off his t-shirt but he halts with it hanging around his neck. For a moment Nakai is presented with the full view of toned muscles of his back before Takuya turns around sharply. He looks straight into Nakai’s eyes and Nakai’s gaze turns away immediately.

“What did you say?” Takuya’s voice is strangely calm and low.

“You heard me.” Nakai is aware of his eyes running away from Takuya’s, yet he decides to stand his ground (against all sense and reason). He can feel his lips curling up in a particularly ugly sneer. “I wanted to know if _the_ Kimura Takuya plans on doing his own thing and fucking us whenever he chooses to. So that I can stop coming in vai—” Takuya’s fist collides with his face and then Nakai doesn’t know anymore.

He stumbles back. He doesn’t even feel the pain, but something in him snaps and before he can even catch balance, he already lunges forward. He grabs the t-shirt still around Takuya’s neck with one hand and punches him with the other and tries to punch again but Takuya doesn’t let him, blocking his arm. Nakai pulls at his hair, which is a low move but he just doesn’t care anymore. Takuya yells in surprise and his face screws up in an angry grimace. He catches Nakai’s wrist to make him let go of the hair, the other hand fisting the front of Nakai’s shirt, they struggle with each other for a while. Nakai finally releases Takuya’s locks and he pushes his shoulder but doesn’t manage to free himself from his grip. Takuya lets out an angry growl and raises his hand to hit him again just when Nakai rams into him with his hole body. The force throws them into a wall and they keep fighting against each other to gain advantage.

Nakai is smaller but uses dirty tactics and in the end he manages to pin Takuya to the wall. He holds his arms in a tight grip and it seems final; they’re both panting hard. But then Takuya has to try to wriggle out and turn the tables and it’s a completely _wrong_ and _disastrous_ move. In a desperate attempt to steady him, Nakai slams into him again, their hipbones collide painfully and Takuya hisses while Nakai finds himself suddenly pressed into his chest so that he can feel his quickened pulse with his own. Takuya seems surprised and Nakai doesn’t seem anything as his face is hidden in Takuya’s neck and before he knows it, his lips brush his skin. And it feels so good and it feels not enough and the next moment, Nakai is throwing everything he has stood for until now out of the window and he is sucking on Takuya’s neck like it’s a life-giving spring.

The taste is a bit salty from the sweat and Nakai doesn’t mind. His lips move in a frenzy as if he was trying to kiss as much as possible before being pushed away because at the back of his mind Nakai expects to be pushed away any second; he isn’t. Not only Takuya doesn’t push him away, but as Nakai’s lips move to the side of his jaw where his ear starts, he can hear a muffled sound and he could swear it’s a _purr_ , of the most purring, cat-like quality, and it makes Nakai stuck at Takuya’s earlobe for a while because the south of his body really wants to hear that again. He makes his way down his throat again, unconsciously aiming to suck it red, as if to mark his territory. He loses himself in the motion completely until Takuya lets out a sigh and it wakes Nakai up.

He stops, pulls back a little – as much as he can without stepping back because he’s afraid of moving his feet and his legs are not trustworthy right now. He lets go of Takuya’s arms at once but there are red spots his tight grip left and if they turn into bruises, Nakai is going to be embarrassed as all hell.

“I…”

“Wha—”

“It’s…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Takuya catches Nakai’s face in his palms – it hurts where he was hit – Nakai doesn’t dare look up – they are kissing. It’s wet-hot-hard, Takuya’s tongue in Nakai’s mouth is invading, demanding, attacking, on a mission to conquer. Nakai doesn’t give in easily (he doesn’t give in at all), responding in the same way. He feels teeth biting down on his lower lip and it makes him shiver inside as he suddenly feels tight all over, although mostly in his pants really. Their movements are sharp, impatient, furious and frustrated as each of them is trying to gain the upper hand but it’s impossible and it feels like they are going to continue like that forever, neither willing to accept defeat and neither capable of claiming victory.

Nakai’s arms are still awkwardly hanging at his sides, so he reaches up, one hand tangling in Takuya’s hair, the other – Nakai can’t believe it himself – sneaking around his waist. The touch of bare skin burns and Nakai gasps into Takuya’s open mouth, and in response Takuya presses his shoulders hard to the wall, dragging Nakai with him so that Nakai is leaning on him. As Nakai’s hand is now keeping their faces firmly together, Takuya lets go of Nakai’s cheeks and makes for his hips instead, pulling them even closer as his own thrust forward and this time they both gasp into each other. Nakai was vaguely aware he had been getting hard but now he can feel it’s the _both_ of them and it sends his senses into an overdrive. He chokes a bit and Takuya allows him space to take a breath as he gives him last light kiss at the corner of his mouth before moving lower, down his jaw and to his neck. Nakai doesn’t suspect anything, not even when one of Takuya’s hands tugs at the collar of his shirt. Then Takuya’s teeth are sinking into the back of his shoulder, his hips roll slowly but forcefully against Nakai’s and it’s only when a hoarse moan escapes Nakai’s parted lips that he knows Takuya _wanted_ to hear it.

Nakai flushes and immediately tries to get back at him. He pulls Takuya’s face up for another kiss and at the same time he shifts slightly to the side, slipping a thigh between his legs. He decides to take the risk and he presses his body down, using Takuya as his only support to keep standing, which makes his thigh push hard. Takuya’s instinctive reaction is to rub against Nakai’s leg, which he does, until he feels Nakai’s lips curling in a triumphant smile. He collects himself and steps back a little, making them both straighten. He deepens the kiss – _as if it was possible to go any deeper_.

Nakai thinks that the wet and hot feel of the inside of Takuya’s mouth is the best thing he has ever tasted and exploring it is so much better than breathing; he wishes he could do just that instead of breathing for the rest of his life. He is completely lost in the sensation until he feels a tugging at the waistband of his pants and for a moment he can’t believe it but Takuya’s hand _is_ sneaking in and cupping his erection through the thin material of his boxers and stars explode under Nakai’s eyelids. He doesn’t understand how what he was feeling seconds ago could have become feeling even better but it did. He doesn’t care anymore, he gives up. There is no way he can fight with _that_ after all.

Takuya’s hand moves faster, like it’s gaining confidence, and Nakai’s lips just can’t kiss back anymore, so Takuya chooses to suck at his throat again. Listening to Nakai’s panting and sighing is almost as good as kissing him anyway. Nakai is squirming under his touch, as if trying very hard to stop his body from leaning into, thrusting into Takuya’s hand and it’s all in vain and he knows it and it drives him mad. Finally he groans loud against his will and it’s all he can do to gather any strength he has left and go still.

“Waitwaitwait.” Nakai stands with his chin resting on Takuya’s shoulder, his face buried in his hair. He wouldn’t be able to do it otherwise. “Hold on.”

“What?” Takuya snaps but his hand halts. It doesn’t retreat though.

“If you don’t stop now, I… I’m going to… come.”

“Eh?”

“If I come, it’ll count as a handjob. You okay with that?”

Nakai can feel the muscles of Takuya’s jaw tighten for a moment and it might be exasperation or it might be amusement but most probably both.

“Are you _honestly_ asking that a guy who has a hand in your pants?”

It’s not like he’s waiting for an answer though as he resumes action and slowly licks up Nakai’s throat. Nakai knows he can’t hold back anymore. Takuya leans into him to kiss his ear.

“From here there’s no turning back,” he whispers and Nakai wants to protest, he wants to stop him again but it’s too late. Electricity shots through his body in a white hot wave and as his toes curl in his shoes, he knows he’s done. It’s like his entire being is reset, his mind blank.

“Fuck,” he says because it’s the only word he can think of.

Takuya waits for him to regain his brainpower, which Nakai pretends takes him longer than it does mostly because he’s feeling self-conscious and doesn’t want to look Takuya in the eye. When he does, he’s surprised to find there is no smirk or mockery. Still, he thinks he’d prefer a bit of a smirk instead of this complete lack of expression that makes him lost about where he stands.

Then Takuya takes of the t-shirt that he has still had on, as simple as that, and puts it on Nakai’s head. He giggles.

“You know, I can’t believe you actually asked me if I’m okay with—”

“Shut up.” Nakai throws the t-shirt to the floor and runs away to the bathroom in order to clean the sticky mess in his underwear.

There’s an aching problem in Takuya’s pants and he sighs as he plops down on the couch. He pulls his pants and boxers down and jerks off shamelessly in the middle of the dressing room. After his orgasm fades away, he keeps sitting like that, not moving, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom. He sighs again. He might be better at feigning nonchalance, but he doesn’t know any more than Nakai does what actually just happened.

xxx

They avoid each other for the next few days and it becomes so obvious that finally Tsuyoshi (who is not good with reading the atmosphere but is exceptional when it comes to saying out loud the things no one else would say) demands them to _get over it, whatever it is_. It’s a real display of courage on his part and he seems to be expecting a backlash, an angry reaction, teasing and bullying, but nothing of the sort happens. Takuya keeps reading a magazine and doesn’t even seem like he heard. Nakai shrugs. But both of them know Tsuyoshi is right and they have to face each other, no matter how lost and confused they feel about the whole thing. 

In the evening, Takuya knocks on Nakai’s door, which is actually a clever thing to do because while it’s him that came here, it’s up to Nakai to open and let him in or not. Nakai does, trying to push the blame back at Takuya. He leads him to the living room and asks him if he wants something to drink, ready to escape to the kitchen to gather his thoughts. Takuya sees through him, though (and Nakai expects no less from him anyway) and makes him sit down. So they sit on the couch next to each other in complete silence.

Takuya is fiddling with a loose thread from his t-shirt and it drives Nakai mad because it’s yet another t-shirt that looks as if a dog chewed on it and it would make any other person seem scruffy and homeless, but it makes Takuya seem scruffy, homeless and damn hot. Nakai doesn’t know how he is supposed to have a serious conversation in the face of _that_. He tries not to steal glances. As for Takuya, he’s staring down at his lap and frowning; it always seemed to him frowning helps out with thinking but he’s ready to ditch that conviction because it doesn’t help him at all right now.

They start talking at the same time.

“Look, I don’t want to…”

“I think we…”

They fall silent, look at each other – really _look_ at each other – they find their reflections in each other’s eyes – and it suddenly feels so light. Takuya laughs. Nakai grins. Then a strand of hair falls into Nakai’s eyes, he tries to brush it away and Takuya’s hand springs out to brush it away at the same time. It’s all it takes.

The next thing Nakai knows they’re making out on the couch, Takuya is straddling him and it’s obviously getting dangerous. He’s already figured out Takuya gets completely lost and oblivious when he’s so into it, so Nakai has to be the one to take action before they do something that will really make it awkward afterwards. _They need to talk first_ , whatever they intend to do second. He grabs the hand that is pushing his shirt up and tries to pull it away.

“Stop it.”

Takuya tries to kiss him again and Nakai uses all his strength not to give in and to get the message through.

“ _Takuya_. Don’t.”

He’s presented with a confused look _and is there a bit of hurt too_? Unexpectedly it gives Nakai confidence. He makes Takuya get off of him, he stands up and motions for him to follow. He leads him out of his flat and to the roof.

The night sky is clear, the air is warm with a tiny stab of chill underneath and it feels good. They sit on the ground and smoke, the silvery puffs hovering between them like a curtain. It keeps them apart just enough to feel each other’s presence but pretend to be alone. In front of them the view of the city spreads like a field of lights. A faint sound of a siren comes from somewhere far. It all makes Nakai feel surreal, cut off from himself, as if his brain was suddenly oversaturated and sharpened, as if he was locked in a glass box, his head on the verge of spinning. He doesn’t know anymore what he was so worried about as everything falls in a perspective. It seems nothing, none of his silly little attractions really matter opposite this feeling of enormity of the world.

He breathes in deeply and is amused to hear the similar sound of inhaling from Takuya.

“It was a good idea to come here,” Takuya says and it’s all Nakai needs to hear. He’s not alone here, he’s not the only one to feel that way. At the same time the sound of Takuya’s voice completely shatters his reverie. All the insecurities are back and ringing, but at least it makes him feel real again.

“Look, about earlier…” Nakai is still not sure what he is trying to say but he wants to say something, he wants to hear himself speak. Just to be sure. “I’m not in love with you or anything,” he blurts out before he can think better of it. It sounds so stupid he wants to crash his head against a wall (it’s a shame there are no walls in a close proximity) and he’s prepared to be laughed at.

“Never thought you are,” he hears instead and Takuya’s tone is warm and sober, not mocking at all.

“So…”

“It doesn’t really matter.” And Nakai thinks he agrees. _It’s Kimura after all_. Being attracted to him doesn’t change anything. And perhaps they don’t really need to define themselves, perhaps it’s okay to just let things happen and life will define it all for them. That’s what it usually is like, isn’t it?

Takuya crushes his cigarette on the ground and throws it away down the edge of the roof. “…but it was good, wasn’t it?”

“Eh? Don’t expect me to praise you.” Nakai turns around to glare and is met with a grin on Takuya’s face. He hits his head lightly and it seems there is nothing hidden under the ease.

“We okay?” Takuya eventually asks with a sense of finality.

The inside of Nakai’s mouth is a little bitter from the smoke and it goes dry, he expects it’s going to taste bad anyway, but he gathers his courage because he knows he has to be a man about it (the irony of it rings in his ears) and he at least wants them to be even. He wouldn’t stand it any other way.

“No,” he says and sees Takuya raise his eyebrows. “I still owe you.” He reaches for the button of Takuya’s pants and Takuya’s eyebrows remain raised but he lets Nakai undo it. Seconds later the courteous surprise completely disappears from his face, that absolutely indecent expression of pleasure taking over. Nakai is _sparkling_.

It doesn’t taste as bad as he thought it would and the satisfaction is worth it anyway. He watches the man in front of him, head thrown back, eyes shut, a smile spreading on his lips and it almost glows. He wouldn’t admit that aloud, but it makes Nakai happy. But as seconds pass and Takuya still doesn’t say anything, it makes Nakai irritated too.

“Oi, Kimura? You alive?”

“Mhm. Just… give me a moment.”

Nakai shakes his head.

“Fuck, at least cover yourself up. It’s cold.”

Takuya finally sits up, trying to straighten his clothes. He looks up and suddenly a realisation hits him. He freezes with his fingers on the zipper, his eyes wide.

“Nakai. Did you actually… swallow?”

Nakai turns completely red, the reddest he has ever been in his whole life.

“Yeah, I, eh… didn’t know what I was supposed to do,” he confesses.

Takuya laughs a clear, whole-hearted laugh that reverberates in the empty night, and manages to duck when Nakai tries to hit him. His face then turns all solemn and he looks Nakai straight in the eye.

“Damn,” he says seriously. “It turns me on all over again.” And it’s true, but a whole other truth is that it leaves Takuya aching inside because he’s aware that he lost this time. Nakai overpowered him, crushed him and made him crawl at his feet with this one accidental act of consideration and it won’t be all that easy to top it. Playing it down is not honourable but if there’s anything Takuya can’t do, it’s losing, so the only thing he has left is to strike back, sooner or later.

Nakai doesn’t realise any of this, though.

“Do whatever you want,” he states and gets to his feet, turning to leave.

 

The sky above was clear, the air was getting chilly. Nakai Masahiro was twenty-two and he set off on a war that he swore not to lose. Even though it seemed he had been doomed from the very beginning.


End file.
